


MEAT FLOOR. A Blood Vine Arc One Shot

by OneSaltyErik



Category: DreamSMP, Minecraft - Fandom, VideoRPF, mcyt
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Torture, BloodVineArc, Body Horror, But it is graphic and creepy and there are vines everywhere and a meat floor, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dear God This Is Terrifying, DreamSMP - Freeform, Gen, Gore, HeEatsHisFuckingArm, Horror, Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, I am so scared of this creation, I cannot stress this enough MEAT FLOOR, I'm Kinda Scared I Wrote This, I'm not kidding, Injury, Look I Saw The Stream And Got Inspired For Some Horror and Whump, MEAT FLOOR, Meat Floor Bad, Minecraft, No Sex, Nothing Sexual, Psychological Horror, Tentacles? Sort of? It's not what you think I swear!, TheEGG, These are just the characters not the actual people don't @ me!, Torture, Whump, autocannibalism, cosmic horror, floor, no one dies, oh yeah, so this happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:26:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29037834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneSaltyErik/pseuds/OneSaltyErik
Summary: Sam has a traumatic and terrifying time locked in the Egg.Or, I just wrote my first horror fic and I am terrified of myself and the responses I am going to get. Please be nice. I just wanted to write some cosmic horror.
Comments: 35
Kudos: 85





	MEAT FLOOR. A Blood Vine Arc One Shot

**Author's Note:**

> NOT THE SIDE ARC I WAS PROMISING! THIS IS JUST AN EXPERIMENTAL PIECE AND HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THE MAIN THINGS I'M WORKING ON! 
> 
> Ok I wrote this thing in a day and it shows. I saw the stream where Tommy rescued Sam from the Egg and suddenly was struck with the thought, what happened in the egg? And then I wrote this. And I hate it.  
> No this is not the side arc I was promising! That will be later, this was a spur of the moment decision. 
> 
> (CW: if you didn't read the tags then read this! Please! There is a fucking MEAT FLOOR! BLOOD! TORTURE! SO MUCH BLOOD! POISONING! BONE BREAKING! THIS IS TORTURE OK? THERE'S GONNA BE PAIN AND BLOOD! HEARING VOICES! HORROR! BLOOD! DID I MENTION A MEAT FLOOR?! EVIL VINES! DEMON EGG! THERE IS A FUCKING MEAT FLOOR FOR GOD'S SAKE! DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU CANNOT HANDLE ANY OF THE THINGS MENTIONED!) 
> 
> I cannot stress this enough, this is about the characters and NOT the content creators themselves! I do not wish this story's events on anyone! However, if at any point the cc's express that they do not want to portrayed in this sort of story, I WILL TAKE THIS FIC DOWN! 
> 
> I might take it down anyway, I feel so bad about writing it. 
> 
> May the gods of prime forgive me.
> 
> (Many thanks to the kind YanZ 焰妶 (YanZ_02) for providing a translated version if you would like to check it out via copy-paste https://sampumpkinpie.lofter.com/post/4c0296e1_1cb932fda )

Sam’s initial surge of adrenaline was what probably had saved him in the fall. 

He had seen the lever being pulled, heard the shift of gears and felt the sudden release of something beneath his feet and immediately had flung his hands out to either side. 

He hadn’t been fast enough to grab the edges of the pit but he had at least managed to slow his fall before he slammed hard into the floor far beneath. His legs crumpled at the impact, but luckily didn’t break. 

“Maybe a few days by the Egg and your mind will change?” 

Sam glared upwards as he heard Bad’s raspy voice. 

“Fuck you!” he hissed as the faint bit of light from above disappeared as the trapdoor was closed. 

_ Well shit. _ Sam stood, his eyes adjusting to the darkness around him. 

He seemed to be in a room of some sorts? Not a very big one, he could reach to either side of it by just extending his arms. It was rather tall though, well, he did just fall into it after all. He felt around a bit. The stone was nearly seamless, his fingers were unable to find any give within the walls and even with some of his tools that had fallen with him, he doubted he’d be able to chip his way out any time soon. 

It was...oddly warm in the room. Humid almost, he realised. A sort of unpleasant, moist, stickiness that seeped into his clothes and made them cling to his skin beneath his armour. 

There was a slight breeze, he realised, though not a cooling. More of that gross, humid air flowed past his face in a pattern, like a massive creature was breathing on him. 

Sam shuddered as he realised the floor was soft beneath his boots. Like mud almost, or thick grass or moss. 

He knelt down, placing his hands against it to gauge the material- 

He jerked his hands back in horror at the familiar, disgusting sensation of bleeding flesh. 

Meat. 

He gagged, quickly wiping the gore from his hands on his trousers and pressing his back against the wall. 

_ What the fuck?! What the fuck?! _

Was he, was he on top of the egg? Had this structure been built directly on top of the egg?! Why?! What the fuck was Bad doing?! 

“...hello…” 

“...hello…?” 

“....hello…” 

“...new….friend…” 

“....new...blood…”

“....flesh….” 

“.....new….flesh...for...us….” 

Sam drew his knife, his sword was too large for the room, and spun about, eyeing the room for the source of whispering voices that seemed to seep from all about him. 

“Who are you?!” he hissed, eyeing the darkened corners of the tiny room. 

“...friend…” 

“...hello friend…” 

“...put the knife down…” 

“...don’t be scared…” 

“...put the knife down…” 

“...won’t hurt you…” 

“...flesh…” 

“...new flesh…” 

“....new friend…” 

“I’m not your fucking friend!” Sam snarled. 

The bleeding floor beneath him shuddered. 

_ Fuck! It’s the egg! _ He realised. 

The egg was speaking to him. He steeled himself, praying to the prime for...something, anything! Anything to escape! He couldn’t let this thing into his head, he couldn’t let it do to him what it had done to Bad, to Ant, to Skeppy, who knew who else! 

To his horror, a piece of the floor stretched upwards as a viney appendage split through the flesh with a disgusting splatter. The vine tapped about, crawling, worming across the floor as though searching. 

“...want to be friends…” 

“...friend…” 

“...put the knife down friend…” 

“...friend?....” 

Sam yelped as the vine neared his face. He struck out at its bleeding, dripping form, slicing at it with the knife. 

The vine recoiled as a loud screeching filled his ears. He clapped his hands over his head, pressing himself as far as he could into the wall behind him, watching in horror as the vine lurched about, spraying blood and ichor across the room. 

His stomach lurched as the hot fluid splattered across his face. 

“PUT DOWN KNIFE!”

“BAD MAN!”

“MAKE HIM DROP THE KNIFE!” 

“NO KNIFE! NO KNIFE!” 

“DROP WEAPONS!” 

“DON’T FIGHT US!”

“...don’t fight us…”

“...flesh…”

“...new flesh…” 

“....new friend…”

“Don’t fight us friend.” 

Sam held the knife up in warning as another vine burst forth from the floor, the older, damaged one sinking beneath the bleeding flesh in retreat. 

“Get the fuck away from me!” Sam waved the knife in warning towards the vine. 

It shrank back and for a moment, Sam thought he might have gained the upper hand. Only to realise his mistake as he felt something coil up about his legs. 

He screamed, flailing the knife downwards at the vines that had grasped him. He was stopped as another set burst forth from the floor, curling around his wrists, squeezing at his hand until he was forced to drop the knife. 

He kicked, he clawed, he tried to flail about to free himself. The vines only coiled further up his legs and arms, more latching about his torso and chest, tearing his armour from him and flinging his weapons and supplies to the ground, where they sank into the bleeding flesh as though it were mud. 

The vines tightened their grip, lifting him up against the wall, squeezing about his body as he thrashed about. He only stopped once he felt a new vine curl about his throat, threatening to strangle him. 

He hung there, frozen, gasping for breath. Wincing as he felt bruises beginning to form where the vines crushed against his skin. 

“Stop fighting?” 

“Don’t fight us friend.” 

“Friend?” 

“New friend!” 

“New flesh!” 

“Friends!” 

The vines shifted about him, moulding themselves to the wall behind him he realised. Their movements against his skin was sickening. 

“Let me go!” he hissed. 

“Friend isn’t happy.” 

“What did we do?” 

“Nothing wrong.” 

“Did nothing wrong.” 

“New flesh is angry!” 

“The flesh is angry.” 

“Yeah I’m fucking angry!” he snapped. “You took my friends away! You hurt them! You’re killing them!” 

He didn’t know why he bothered to talk back to this thing, it wasn’t as if it could ever be reasoned with. Perhaps it was a way to keep his own fear at bay? Reassure himself that he was still alive? He could still fight this...this thing?

“Not hurt them.”

“Never hurt them.” 

“Showed them what they wanted!” 

“Promised them.” 

“Made them promises!” 

“Exchange.” 

Sam gasped as the vines tightened about his torso, sending a deep, throbbing pain through his chest. 

He coughed. 

“I don’t want anything you have to offer me!” he managed to choke out. 

“Riches!” 

“Love!” 

“Wealth!” 

“Family!” 

“Friends!” 

“I already have all that!” he cried out as the vines cinched tighter about his chest. “You took my friends away!” 

“Can give them back?” 

“Give them back.” 

“Join us!” 

“Can have them back if you join us!” 

“No!” Sam struggled for air as the vines squeezed the air from his lungs. “No! No!” 

His vision grew fuzzy for a moment, and then the vines relaxed. 

For awhile, there was only silence within the room. Broken only by the faint rasps of Sam’s breaths and the disgusting squish of the vines around him. 

“You will...join us…” 

The voices returned. 

Sam grit his teeth. 

“Never!” he snarled. 

His snarl became a scream as he felt a loud crack from his ribs as the vines crushed down on him. 

The scream became a strangled cry of agony as the sensation of thousands of needles pierced through his skin. Wherever there was a vine, there was fire coursing through his veins, burning and stinging and cutting and tearing as the vines squirmed about him. Still crushing, still strangling, still holding him suspended against the wall. 

White flashed before his eyes as the pain consumed him. 

______

He didn’t know how long he had been down here. 

He didn’t want to know how long he had been down here. 

Sam coughed. 

Everything hurt. The vines around his chest had broken something, he knew that much. His arms and legs had gone numb from the pressure around them. Hot blood seeped down his tunic from where the vine’s thorns had pierced him, leaving thin, deep gashes in their wake. Each heartbeat sent a sharp throb of pain through him as the thorns twitched, as if in response to the flow of blood. 

There was something in those thorns. 

Something wrong, unholy. His body screamed at him to tear them from his skin. Tear them out, rip them from his flesh, before it was too late. 

He couldn’t. 

His arms were cold with numbness. Where there wasn’t a thorn entering his skin, where there wasn’t the fire of whatever was being slowly pumped into his blood, there was only cold. Despite the sweat dripping from his face from the heat of the room, he could only feel cold in his hands. 

There was no sensation in his limbs where there was no vine. No thorn. No poison. 

“Doesn’t have to hurt, friend.” 

“Friend?” 

“Join us friend.” 

“Join us and the pain will cease.” 

Sam whimpered as the vines around his neck squirmed, damp and hot and oozing with poison. The metallic scent of blood and toxins burned his nose. 

“...no…” he said weakly. 

He couldn’t join this-this thing! He would never join this thing! 

Despite the pain, despite the burning within his chest, the ache in his bones, the disgusting sensation of the vines across his skin, he would never join. 

This creature had hurt his friends, twisted them, tortured them. 

He would never join. 

He cried out as he felt the vines across his chest writhe, dragging the thorns across his flesh before cinching back around him. He felt a sob of pain escape him as the thorns burrowed deeper into him, their poison leeching further into his system, heightening the pain. Weakening his resolve. 

“Stop resisting, friend.” 

“Join us!”

“Join us and the pain will cease!” 

“We promise!” 

“No more pain!” 

“Promise!” 

Sam wanted to die. 

_____ 

Something was being drained from him. 

He couldn’t tell what. Blood? Most likely, but then why was he not dizzy yet? 

Sam moaned as the draining sensation grew stronger, heightened by the pain of the poison slowly pumping into his bloodstream with each heartbeat. 

It wasn’t killing him, he knew that by now. But it was hurting him. 

His veins were on fire. Each heartbeat now sent a shock of agony from his chest and into his limbs. He wasn’t sure what hurt worse. Breathing? His heart? The crushing of the vines on his bones? The tearing and piercing of his skin from the thorns, still burrowing within him at every move? 

It didn’t matter. 

Nothing mattered. 

He just wanted to die. 

He was so tired. So tired and thirsty and hungry. Sleep was impossible. Not with the pain. The constant pounding in his head. The ache in his stomach. The dryness of his throat. 

It burned! 

It burned, it hurt, everything hurt! 

“Hungry?” 

“Thirsty?” 

“We can help you.” 

“Help you.” 

“Join us!” 

“We can help you!” 

“...shut up…” Sam coughed weakly. 

He felt something soft press against his lips. 

“Eat!” 

“Consume!” 

“Consume the flesh!” 

“No more hunger!” 

Sam clamped his mouth shut, jerking his head aside, only for the vines about his neck to snap him back into place. 

Whatever had been pressed against his mouth was now forced between his lips and teeth. He tasted blood. 

“Consume!” 

“Consume!”

“Consume!” 

The vines stabbed their thorns deeper within him at each demand. 

Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes. 

He didn’t dare move. 

_______ 

How long had it been? 

“Hours.” 

Sam knew it had been hours before he had heard the voice answer. 

He knew. 

He could feel it. 

The vines within his bleeding chest, binding him in place, moulding with his very being, had almost become another set of limbs. 

He shuddered at the realisation that he had been connected to the Egg. The Egg, it’s vines, its reach across the city above. 

He could feel it all, pulsing like a second heart beat. Where the vines touched sunlight in the world above, he could sense the change in temperature. Where the vines leeched into water, he could feel the coolness of the liquid flowing past. 

Where the vines were stepped on, he could feel pressure. 

Where the vines were destroyed, he could feel pain. 

He could hear the voices. 

The voices of Ant, confused and angry. Of Bad, plotting and dark, but concerned. Of Skeppy, in pain, somewhere. 

“Friends.” 

“We love our friends.” 

“Join our friends?” 

“Join our flesh?” 

“New flesh?” 

“New friend?” 

“Join us!” 

“Connection!” 

“We love our friends!” 

“We love you Sam.” 

“We are starving, Sam.” 

“We hunger, Sam.” 

The empty ache of hunger was only increased tenfold as he felt himself connected further to the Egg, feeling its hunger. Its pain. Its emptiness. 

He felt his teeth press down on whatever had been placed in his mouth some hours ago. Blood, hot and fresh dribbled across his tongue. 

It was a taste he despised! 

But he was- the Egg was- so hungry! 

So hungry! 

He bit down, tearing at the thing, barely bothering to chew before he swallowed and felt the relief of something within his stomach, taking the edge off of his hunger. 

He bit again, gods he was so hungry! 

So thirsty! 

He sucked at the blood that filled his mouth and throat, chewing the flesh within his mouth, tearing through skin and muscle and tendon and vein, he was so hungry...so hungry...so….

He screamed as the pain finally registered in his mind. His arm was burning! Throbbing! 

He nearly puked as he realised what he had been eating, staring in horror at his bleeding, mangled arm, held in place before him by a vine. 

“No!” he shrieked, fighting with whatever bit of strength he had left to free himself. “No! No! NO! NO! NO!”

The vines dug into him, choking him once more. 

“YES!” 

“YES FRIEND!” 

“Do you want it to stop?” 

“Do you want it to end?” 

“Do you want the pain to end?” 

Sam gagged, choking as the vines strangled him. He felt something press against his forehead, something sharp, cutting, tearing. 

He couldn’t even scream as the pain of a thorn burrowing into his skull began to boil through his head. 

His vision flickered red, and he knew no more. 

_____ 

Voices. 

He heard voices. 

Not the voices of the Egg. 

Not the voices of the Egg….

Who were the voices? 

“I’m immune! IMMUNE!” 

“Just put the damn armour on! We can’t risk it!” 

Sam weakly raised his head at the muffled voices. It wasn’t the Egg. It sounded... familiar? 

“...hello…?” he called out, his voice was so weak, he realised. 

Maybe they hadn’t hear him-

“Oh my god! He can talk?!” 

That was Puffy’s voice. 

“Sam! Sam we’re getting you out of their buddy!” 

Tommy’s near yelling tone echoed through the stone walls. 

“Sam are you okay?” Puffy called out once more. 

“...I…” Sam coughed, it hurt to speak. His head pounded with every sound. His arm throbbed. His body burned with poison and cuts and broken bones from the vines, still suspending him to the wall. 

“...I…” he felt one of the vines cinch tightly around his chest. 

“NO GO FRIEND!” 

He moaned in pain as the vine crushed against his broken ribs. 

“....help me….” he hung his head. “....please…” 

For a long, agonising moment, he heard only silence. 

And then there was the loud pinging of pickaxes against the walls. It hurt! Oh gods it hurt! White flashed across his vision at each impact of the picks, rattling through his brain. 

“We’re coming!” he heard Puffy shout. 

“Just hang in there!” Tommy added. “We’re coming for you buddy! You’re gonna be okay!” 

“NOOOOOO!!!!!!” 

Sam felt an incoherent string of half words spill from his mouth as he cried in pain, the vines writhing about his form. 

And then there was light. A faint bit of lantern light, streaming into the horrid room, nearly blinding Sam. 

Some time passed. He heard Tommy and Puffy shouting at him, he wished they wouldn’t shout so loud. 

He felt the Egg’s agony as the vines were cut from his form. 

He couldn’t even cry at the pain he felt as the vines were torn from his bleeding, broken frame. He collapsed into Puffy’s arms as he was finally released. 

“Oh fuck!” he felt Tommy’s hand on his wounded arm. “The fuck happened?!” 

Sam mumbled, confused, hurt. 

“...I….was so...hungry...hurt…” he wheezed. “...ate my...arm…had to...hurts…” 

He felt Puffy’s soft hands stroke his hair as she wrapped a blanket about him. 

“You look so cold.” she said quietly. 

“....cold….” Sam repeated. He was cold. He was so cold. So hurt. So cold. 

“Wanna...go home…” he slumped against her shoulder as his vision flickered in and out of a dark red. 

“I know Sam.” Puffy whispered. “I know. Let’s get you home.” 

________ 

Sam faded in and out of consciousness over the next few hours. He knew he was safe. He knew he had been taken home. He knew his wounds had been treated and his friends had helped him. He knew he had only been in the Egg for fourteen hours. It felt like an eternity though. 

He lay on his bed, familiar and safe, his dog lying on his feet as Tommy and Puffy talked nearby. His injuries still ached, though now they were little more than a dull throb, thanks to whatever he had been given to numb his senses. 

He smiled weakly at the sight of Tommy, Puffy, his home. He was safe. 

“....flesh…” 

_ No. _ He shook his head. No, the voice of the Egg couldn’t reach him here! He was home! He was safe! 

“....why...did you...leave...flesh?” 

There was a dull pulse on his forehead.

_ No! No no no no no!!!! _ Sam reached up to touch the pulsing sensation, dread filling him. 

His fingers traced the edge of a gem like protrusion in the centre of his forehead, hidden by locks of hair. The sudden memory of a vine piercing his skull wracked his being. 

He clenched his eyes shut as suddenly he felt the vines coiling about him once more as the Egg’s voice(s) pleaded for him. 

“....come back!” 

“...can’t escape!” 

“...friend!” 

“Come back friend!” 

“Come back flesh!” 

“COME BACK!”

“FLESH!”  
“HUNGRY!”

“HUNGRY!”

“HUNGRY!!!!!!!!” 

He was never going to be free. 

  
  



End file.
